


Death, Dying, Choking on Flowers

by lrs002



Series: Lrs002’s writing of 2020 [27]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: 100 days challenge, M/M, Personal Challenge, Pining Arthur, The Hanahaki Disease, prompt quote
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24529570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lrs002/pseuds/lrs002
Summary: Prompt: quote from Unknown Author“If you push me away, I promise you, you won't find me where you left me. My heart is big, but not big enough to deal with people who decide to love me when it's convenient for them.”Or: Arthur has the The Hanahaki Disease. And is in Love with Eames.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Series: Lrs002’s writing of 2020 [27]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590145
Kudos: 19





	Death, Dying, Choking on Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Day 3 of 100 Days Challenge and Arthur x Eames Week. Might write a second chapter at some point.

Eames has known Arthur his entire life; and the man has never changed he’s always been sickly. From the moment Eames met him at three years of age Arthur has been sick with the flower's disease. 

Nobody knows why Arthur has had it this long, or why he developed the Hankani disease so And as they stand in front of Julia Tate's casket under grey skies he vows to take care of her 10 year old son. It’s what she would have wanted. 

He feels eyes on him so he looks up to find Arthur staring at him intensely. Eames stares right back. Arthur doesn’t look well right now. He’s pale, skinny as a rail with dark circles under his eyes, and he doesn’t look comfortable hunched over in a wheelchair gripping a hankie in his hand.

At least he looks washed Eames thinks as he walks over. He probably insisted at being here, at being presentable. Arthur’s usual look is greasy long locks and an oversized T-shirt since he spends most of his time in bed, resting and reading.

“You shouldn’t be here, Pet. You’re not well.” Eames says, pressing a warm hand into Arthur’s boney shoulder “You should be resting.”

“I will never be well Mr. Eames.” Arthur mumbles just as another coughing fit racks his body,

Eames frowns, worry etched on his face. “Glass of water, darling?”

Arthur nods and Eames goes looking for one of the wait staff, Julia’s mother hired to wander around during the event. He can’t believe her mother hired catering for a funeral. Julia would have hated it, But also would have said having catering also reduces the number of smythpy casseroles people will bring over later.

Eames spots one of the blasted fancy penguins, grabs a glass of water and takes it to Arthur lickity spilt. Their fingers graze over each other when Arthur in his dark brown suit reaches for it desperately. 

Arthur takes a few huge gulps of the cool liquid and sets in his lap, gripping the glass with his knees.

“As I was saying. I’m not going to let this disease stop me from doing anything.”

“That’s good to hear Arthur.” Eames says 

But an hour later as he wheels Arthur back to his cool, dark, book-filled room, all he can see is Julia’s tear stained face, her desperate plea of “Take care of my son. Love my Arthur.” She made to him on her deathbed finally succumbing to the same disease her son will surely die of if they don’t find his soulmate.

Once inside Arthur’s bedroom, Eames picks him up and sets him on the edge of the bed, noticing he weighs too little. Frail like a bird.

“Do you have it?” Eames asks “Or do you need help?” seeing the boy’s hands shake as he attempts to undo the buttons of his dress shirt.

“Help please?” Arthur croaks

“Righty-O.” He says with a small smile, 

He makes quick work of it, getting Arthur undressed and into a clean T-shirt, trying not to think about the fact that Julia would probably have done this. 

In fact, Eames knows she did this because she told him over coffee when he managed to pull her away from the house and Arthur; for a couple hours one sunny afternoon months ago.

That was before the disease took over before her husband left.

“Mr. Eames, Mr. Eames read to me?” Arthur asks, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Are you comfortable there Arthur?” He asks, situating Arthur back against several pillows.

“He needs his meds first or he won’t be comfortable for very long.” A nurse says coming in, looking at them both.

Arthur scowls at her, a look of betrayal in his eyes but then the boy sighs and takes a couple pills, sipping water in between the pills.

“Good boy.” Eames says, settling down in a chair across from the bed and begins to read out loud.

And continues to read until Arthur falls asleep.

\----  
Funerals seem to be their thing, Arthur thinks. He’s sixteen now. His Father’s just been put to rest a couple hours ago and Arthur well he’s sitting by the fireplace feeling Eames’ eyes on him. 

He hasn’t seen Eames in two years not since the older man has started working in Dreamshare.  
“See you got rid of the wheelchair.” Eames says as way as greeting.

“Too much of a hassle to fit through the doorways at school.” He says not looking up from his book.

Eames just nods,“I’ve noticed you haven’t been coughing as much tonight. Found your love.”

“No, just new meds added to my every growing list.” Arthur mumbles, leaning against Eames warm strong body.

“Oh, sorry to hear that.” Eames says

Silence falls between them for a couple seconds before Arthur breaks it. 

Tossing a book into Eames lap, he says, “Read to me Mr. Eames.”

“Certainly” and they sit like that for a while.

\----  
A month later after several visits, Arthur finally works up the courage to confess. 

“I love you know that right?” He asks as they sit together on a bench in the garden. Several Tulip petals he’s managed to cough up hidden in his pants pocket.

Eames response “Of course Darling.” and he pats Arthur’s hand, “Everyone loves me!”

And just Arthur sighs.

\---

By the time he’s nineteen, Arthur has lost count of how many times he’s tried to confess his love to Eames and has been blown off.

This is probably going to be his last attempt to tell Eames he loves him, Arthur thinks. It’s the perfect day for it.

The sky is grey and it’s raining. Hard.So hard in fact that Arthur has to use an umbrella.

He finds Eames standing on the sidewalk looking out at the ocean waves. 

“Darling, lovely to see you. I was on my way to see you.” 

“Eames can we talk?” Arthur asks 

“Sure pet.” Eames mutters turning to face him grinding a lit cigarette with his foot.  
Arthur’s not going to be subtle anymore.

“I love you.” He says tossing tulip petals that he’s coughed up on the ground at Eames feet. The petals are pink, just like most of Eames’ shirts.

Eames opens his mouth to say something but Arthur stops him “Wait let me finish, If you push me away, I promise you, you won't find me where you left me. My heart is big, but not big enough to deal with people who decide to love me when it's convenient for them. And over the years you’ve only been loving me and caring for me when it’s convenient for you.” 

“What do you mean?”

Little visits to my house over the years, all the little pet names.” Arthur mutters ”Everything.”

They stare at each other for a moment then Eames sighs.

“I only do that out of an obligation to your mother. I do care for you, Arthur but not the way you want me to. Plus, how do you know it’s me you love?”

Arthur makes a strangled sound, “They’re your favorite flower.”

“Lots of people love tulips, darling, specifically pink ones.” Eames says, sounding tired, “Plus you were three when we met.”

“Exactly,” Arthur says “I’ve loved you my entire life.”

Eames turns away, walking fast up the hill, Arthur follows after him, “Where are you going?”

“To get a drink.” Is Eames’ response and then he turns back to look at Arthur, “Your disease developed months after we met. You met countless other people in between the time we met and the time it developed. You could be in love with a girl you don’t remember.

Arthur stares at Eames, hand on his hip.

“Or boy. I don’t judge.” Eames says “We’ll find the person you love together. I’ll help you look.”

“I love you Mr. Eames and nothing going to change that.” Arthur says

“You can’t love me. I’m a horrible person.” Eames says continuing up the hill, “Even your mother knew that.”

“I know.” Arthur says then steps into Eames' personal space and kisses him gently on the cheek. “Goodnight. Mr. Eames.” He says, turning away and ambles down the hill toward home.


End file.
